Unfiltered Story #159113

, , | | Unfiltered | July 26, 2019

(I work in a small photo studio for new born babies and toddlers. On this particular day, we had just opened up the new studio, and were having a sort of ‘grand opening’ celebration that was open to the public. We had displays and food set out for any visitors- and any visitors that came usually had children with them, as they are what our business is centred around. I had been filing loose order forms in the office when my boss ran in from the studio.)

Boss: Quick! Where’s my camera?

Coworker: (Handing her the camera bag) Here! What’s happening?

Boss: I need to take a picture of the cake!

(We had a cake set out with the company name on it, and little decorative flowers all over. It was quite pretty.)

Coworker: But… We’ve only just opened up and there’s more displays to build. Weren’t you going to photograph it later?

Boss: Yes, but a woman just came in and asked for some cake.

(A woman from one of the other businesses in the village had walked in, asked for cake, and stood in absolute silence in the studio as she ate it, then immediately left. We still laugh about it now!)

Doesn’t Get Their Monkey Business

, , , | Right | February 12, 2018

(There is a black and white sample photo of four teenage boys hanging in the lobby of our studio. It’s supposed to look like a recreation of a photo from a Beatles shoot, and a lot of customers really like it and make comments about it. A mother and her six-year-old little boy are in the studio, and the mother is asking about pricing and what we can do for their photo session when they do decide to come in to get pictures done. Meanwhile, the little boy is staring at the “Beatles” photo, before he turns to me and speaks up.)

Little Boy: “Are those the monkeys?”

(At first it doesn’t occur to me what the little boy is talking about. I think he means actual monkeys. Apparently, his mother thinks the same, too.)

Mother: “Those boys don’t look anything like monkeys.”

Little Boy: *starts singing* “‘Hey, hey, we’re The Monkees!'”

(I am trying very hard not to fall over laughing, and his mother looks even more confused, because she has no idea what he is talking about.)

Mother: “What are you going on about?”

Little Boy: “They’re just monkeying around Mom.”

Mother: *shakes her head and turns back to me* “He watches way too much TV.”

Me: “At least he’s watching some of the classics. My mom would love his taste in music!”

(I finished answering her questions, and she thanked me, promising to be back when they have time to get their photos taken. As they were leaving, I overheard the little boy trying to explain to his mother who the Monkees were. Really made my day.)

“Cut-Out” The Dressing Part

, , , , | Right | December 4, 2017

(My husband and I own one of those photography studios where people dress up in “wild west” costumes and get a sepia-toned picture taken. We have examples of the pictures all over the walls, so people can get ideas as to how they want to dress. One day an older couple walks in.)

Customer: “How long does it take to get a photo done?”

Me: “For two people? I can have you in and out with your print in about fifteen minutes.”

Customer: “Just fifteen minutes? We have a trolley to catch.”

Me: “You mean the city trolley that leaves at [time]? This only takes fifteen minutes, so you’ll be out in time to catch your trolley, no problem.”

Customer: “Oh, good! How do we start?”

Me: “You just have to decide how you want to dress!”

Customer: *just now noticing the wall covered in photos* “You mean we dress up?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “We don’t just put our head in a cut-out?”

Me: *a little taken aback, as older customers usually know exactly what this kind of thing is* “…yes.”

Customer: “Oh, we don’t have time for that.”

Me: “But it only would take fifteen minutes.”

Customer: “I’m sorry; we just don’t have time. Bye!”

(Apparently not all “fifteen minutes” are created equal.)

Formatting A New Friendship

, , , , , | Working | October 21, 2017

(I work in a portrait studio and am going to upload a customer’s pictures from a memory card after finishing the session. I get an error message that says, “card cannot be used,” which I’ve never seen before, so I call our help desk. He asks a couple questions and runs few a couple of quick things that don’t work.)

Help Desk Tech: “Okay, let’s do it this way. Go ahead and format the memory card.”

Me: “What? Format the memory card?”

(I am terrified to do this because it will erase all the images I just finished taking of a large group.)

Help Desk Tech: “Yeah.”

Me: “No.”

Help Desk Tech: “No?”

Me: *firmly* “No.”

Help Desk Tech: “Why not?”

Me: “I’m trying to retrieve the images, not delete them!”

Help Desk Tech: “It’s fine. I can still get them after you format it.”

Me: “No.”

Help Desk Tech: “It will be okay.”

Me: “What’s your name?”

Help Desk Tech: “[Help Desk Tech].”

Me: “Well, [Help Desk Tech], if I am going to go against my better judgement and format this memory card I need you to promise me that I won’t delete these pictures.”

Help Desk Tech: “It should be fine.”

Me: “Should be isn’t good enough! I need you to promise me.”

Help Desk Tech: “I promise. Go ahead and format it. I’ll help you through this. We can do it together.”

(I can tell he’s teasing me, but I take a deep breath and format the memory card. He proceeds to remotely access my computer and retrieve the images from the card.)

Me: “You did it!”

Help Desk Tech: “I’m glad. I was totally lying when I promised before.”

Me: “[Help Desk Tech]!”

Help Desk Tech: “Just kidding.”

Me: “Thank you so much!” *to my customer who has been waiting for her pictures* “He did it! My new best friend [Help Desk Tech] did it!”

([Help Desk Tech] is my buddy now. I’m always glad when I call the help desk and it’s him. The customer loved her pictures and tipped me $30.)

That Is ‘Pretty’ Awesome

, , , , , , | Hopeless | August 15, 2017

(I am a photographer running a studio in the inner city. We are well known for our children’s portraits, and we range from high-end portraits for modelling jobs to fun sibling photos and birth announcements. We do a bit of everything; as such, we are extremely busy, and it states on our website that we do not accept walk-ins. We are usually booked up six months in advance. One day, ten minutes before closing, a mum walks in with a young girl around six or seven behind her. I internally groan.)

Mother: “Hello. I know you’re closing soon, but I have a special favour to ask.”

(At this point the little girl peeks around her mother’s legs and I’m lost for words. Under her thick winter coat and hat, she is skeletally thin with huge dark circles under her eyes. From what I can tell, she has no hair, and a tube taped to her cheek that feeds into her nose. It is immediately clear this kid is very, very sick.)

Mother: *near tears* “My daughter saw one of your photos taped to the wall at the hospital. She REALLY loves unicorns and the photo had a girl photo-shopped onto a horse. I know you’re booked up, and it’s months before the next appointment, but…”

(At this point she actually starts crying. I realise that our next available appointment is probably way too far away for this particular kid. The little girl squeezes her mother’s hand. I am a very big dude, covered in tattoos and a beard, but I’m not ashamed to say I needed a minute before I spoke.)

Me: “Aww, that’s just for regular customers! I’ve been waiting all day to take a photo of someone as beautiful as you! What’s your name, sweetheart?”

(I lock the front door and spend the next three hours taking photos of this kid in every princess costume I have in my closet. She is the sweetest, most well-behaved kid I have ever worked with. Once we’re done she curls up on the couch in my office and falls asleep while I load up the photos for her mum to see and choose the ones she likes best, and ask her what kind of retouching she’d like done. She’s adamant that I leave her daughter as is — apparently the little girl has been worried for the past month that she is no longer “pretty.”)

Me: “All right, so we’ve settled on these. I can have them edited and all finished in two days. If you give me your email I can send you the link to the website and the password to download them when they’re ready.”

(The mother thanks me over and over and comes up front, carrying her sleeping daughter, and holds out her credit card.)

Me: “Nope. No way.”

Mother: “Please, I insist. You stayed open so late and your shoots are listed for [amount] online. Please at least charge me that.

Me: “Absolutely not. I am not taking money for this. No way in h***.”

(A few days later I send the link through and hear nothing. I see she’s downloaded the photos and I think nothing of it, hoping my sweet little friend loved her photos. Almost six months later I’m once again closing up when a very familiar face pops up at my window, grinning and waving frantically.)

Me: *throwing open the door* “Hey, you!”

Little Girl: “Hi! I’m better! Look, I’m better!”

(Sure enough, she’d put on some weight, was flushed and pink, and had a fine fuzz of hair over her head. Her mother was a few steps behind her, grinning. She once again tried to force an envelope full of money into my hand, and again I refused. She got frustrated and eventually in her exasperation said, “at least let us take you to dinner!” which I happily accepted. Seven years later that photo of a sick little girl astride a giant pink unicorn is in a frame in my lounge room. My now-step-daughter groans every time I point it out to the friends she brings home!)

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